Bathrooms in Hell
by Kadyn
Summary: Pritkin not Caleb escorts Cassie to the bathroom in Hell to wash up while they wait for the council's decision and some not at all G rated behavior ensues. ( As only it can between my favorite half-demon war mage and his demi-goddess!) PWP because clearly they're already IN Hell might as well Earn it the way we all wanted them too! LOL


_**Bathrooms in Hell**_

**Author:** Kadyn

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**Summary:** Pritkin not Caleb escorts Cassie to the bathroom to wash up and some not at all G rated behavior ensues. As only it can between my favorite half-demon war mage and his demi-goddess! PWP?!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own them; if I did we'd have gotten a lot more satisfaction in book 6! (no offense to the lovely Ms. Chance; but come on! There's only so much a sex starved incubus can take! (Not to mention his fans!)

**Notes:** Apologies if I've gotten Cassie's outfit wrong; I could find a mention of t-shirt and jeans, but then she goes to bed and gets back up again before jumping into the Hellmouth; and there's no mention of her changing clothes that I found. So I made it up. If anyone knows what she's IS supposed to be wearing, and what page it can be found on in 'Temp the Stars' you get a muse cookie; which I should note are delicious! :P

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_**Bathrooms in Hell**_

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"Fine," I reached down and grabbed Pritkin's good hand giving him a tug he could easily ignore, but won't.

"We'll be back in a few," I offered to Caleb as I slipped between his giant hulking mass and the rattan screen that was partially obscuring the sort-of-sofa I'd woken on just a few minutes ago. I hear Pritkin fall into step behind me thanks to the soft slap of his gift shop flip flops as I make my way towards the short hallway bearing the swirly printed 'Bathrooms' sign.

Wonder of wonders, they had bathrooms in hell.

And gift shops.

My head would be spinning, well; if it wasn't already.

I feel Pritkin press up behind me, his fingers smoothing my hair back from my face. "Are you alright?" His voice is quiet, careful like he's expecting me to burst into tears.

Well to be fair I had almost burst into tears before he'd given me the flip flops. What a stupid thing to cry over, I chide myself. I have to keep it together-keep going until the council releases Pritkin, or…or…_No._

I wouldn't allow myself to even think the alternative. Not after coming this far, not after beating the odds and having him here next to me again.

"Cassie?" Pritkin's fingers trailed down my temple, pausing before brushing my hair back and sweeping the strands away from my neck, I can feel his breath against my skin hot and enveloping my senses sending tingling fingers down my spine, making the room spin a bit faster…._and….right, Pritkin had said something…._

I swallow. "I'm fine,"

Pritkin snorts. "You still look ready to pass out…again." I could have sworn I just felt his mouth against my skin… goose bumps race across my flesh as a shiver ripples through me just thinking I imagined it…I had to just imagine that…Didn't I?

"I'm just a bit dizzy," I want so bad to lean back into his chest, wrap his arms around me and let my eyes slip shut.

But I also _really_ needed a restroom.

"Come on," I take his hand and gave it a soft squeeze before dropping it again. "If there's nobody else in there, I'll leave the door open."

He doesn't reply but he starts following me down the hallway again; the soft _slap, slap, slap _of his ridiculous footwear echoing down the walls.

I wondered how he felt about his current shoes. Considering I'd never seen him in anything but soft sole work boots and running shoes, he is certainly a fan of quieter footwear then he's currently sporting. Then again, maybe he wasn't that jazzed about being barefoot in Hell either.

Pritkin's fingers closing around my wrist just before the door marked 'Ladies' bring me up short. He shoots me a grin and an honest to God wink before slipping passed me with a muttered "Better check first or Caleb will have my Ass."

I don't bother responding, too tired and bewildered by both the wink and the idea that Caleb would even entertain the idea of kicking Pritkin's ass; even if the giant mountain of a mage had mumbled something to the effect on more than one occasion himself.

There were just some laws of the universe even a war mage should respect:

_Pritkin_ did the ass-kicking.

I let myself lean against the wall between the two doors as I wait. I don't wait long before Pritkin re-emerges taking my hand and pulling me into the most ridiculous bathroom I'd ever seen; and considering I currently reside in one of the most ridiculous casinos on the Las Vegas strip I felt that was saying something.

The whole room was covered floor to ceiling in tiny azure and opal iridescent square tiles that reflected and bounced the light from the honest to God freaking chandelier hanging in the center of what could only be properly called a powder room.

White marble pedestal sinks lined one wall with heavy looking black framed mirrors, and a series of dark oak doors in a deep grain reflected back in them. There was a couch and a vanity with tiny jars and bottles, and what appeared to be a stack of demon magazines and… _Vanity Fair?_

_I am still In Hell, Right?_

I blinked trying to take it all in, certain I must still be passed out on the sofa and dreaming the most bizarre bathroom in my life.

"I thought you said there were toilets in here."

"There are, behind those doors,"

_Okay._ Ignoring the improbability of the rest of the room I quickly stumbled into one of the small oak wooded stalls and found a toilet that looked pretty normal and human-friendly. At least it wasn't a giant pit I was likely to fall into, I can only picture Pritkin having to rescue me from that mortification…

I finished quickly and stumbled back out into what was still a ridiculously gorgeous room; in Hell. That is until I catch my own reflection in the black framed mirror; and okay, _now_ it looked a bit more like Hell.

I had definitely seen better days; and no amount of soap from a sink was going to really improve my current state.

The soft pink striped pajama pants looked even more ridiculous minus the right knee and covered in filth, there was a huge red welt running across my ribs that I couldn't remember getting. My tank top announcing that 'People hate when sentences don't end the way they _Potato_' somehow managed to stay in enough pieces that I wasn't indecent but was smeared with God knows what-and my face hadn't fared much better. Between the dirt and the scratches and the deep bruise blooming under my left cheek I was definitely looking rough.

"What I really need is a full blown shower and a laundry mat."

I ambled closer to the sink eyes locked on my mirror image, it didn't get any prettier the closer I got.

I certainly didn't look like the daughter of a Goddess, or like someone strong enough to have just broken into Hell. I didn't look like someone people would believe could have run from an enraged demon prince and his guards trying to rescue a half-crazed war mage.

"Think they'll take me seriously in this shirt?"

Pritkin doesn't say anything, he's not in my line of sight, but I knew he was there.

I _always_ knew when he was near.

Something I chose not to analyze because I just couldn't, not now-maybe later; yes, later would do.

I'd contemplate that revelation when I had time to hyperventilate.

Which in my line of work might be a while. Like maybe a few months from now; assuming I lived that long.

I turned on the faucet over a large pedestal sink basin almost big enough to be a small bathtub.

Pritkin comes back into my line of view, our eyes met and hold in the mirror for a moment not speaking. Something behind his eyes shifting again like it had what felt like ages ago in that ridiculous palace bedroom when I'd told him he was my servant and that he couldn't leave me even if he tried.

Only I didn't want to think about what I'd seen in those sparkling green eyes then…it made my head swim and heat curl through my belly, and anyway that wasn't what I was seeing now.

Pritkin continues to hold my gaze, both of us barely breathing. His eyes look softer now than I'd ever seen them; which was ridiculous because Pritkin didn't do soft.

Pritkin did explosions, and run for your lives, and moody glares topped off with snarky comebacks.

He certainly did _not_ take my hands and turn me to face him and take a cloth he'd stolen from somewhere; dip it into the now hot water and proceed to wipe the dirt and grime almost reverently from my face.

That would be preposterous.

I couldn't help it, I must be hallucinating. But it was such a _nice_ hallucination after the day I'd had that I just let my eyes slip shut and decided to _Hell_ with reality. I'd simply go with it.

Pritkin's hand moves over my skin. Brushing the wet cloth over my cheeks down the bridge of my nose, across my brow; his fingers gently grip my chin turning my face so he could work on what must be a particularly dirty spot under my left ear. He moved down my neck, across my shoulders, skipping over the torn ratty strip of my tank top sleeve and down both arms, pausing to inspect the rip in my shirt, lifting the hem to trace his fingers over the angry red mark beneath it the angry welt scratched over my ribs.

"I'm sorry."

I opened my eyes to stare at him completely dumbfounded. With his black eye and his arm in a sling and his cuts and bruises and 6 freaking months in Hell-and he was sorry? I blink at him stunned.

"I'm not sure what…."

"You put yourself in harm's way for me, again. And I'm sorry. I'm supposed to protect you."

He won't look at my face, and I can't understand his expression; it's too bizarre to comprehend…

A sigh escapes my lips.

_Stupid, idiotic, exasperatingly dumb as a rock war mage..._

"You _do_ protect me, Pritkin." I'd be dead a million times over if it wasn't for the infuriating man standing in front of me. Why didn't he get that?

"For fuck sake you gave up your freedom to save me; but don't you ever do that again!" I was suddenly boiling mad, fuming at him once more for leaving me, for giving it all up-for not even asking!

_For naked skin sliding over mine, and never getting a chance to finish that kiss…_

_Kiss me like you mean it… _

The last words he spoke to me, and _Oh God. _

_He had no idea…_

_Idiot._

I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck fisting my hand in the front pocket of his destroyed jeans pulling him against me, my mouth crashing into his.

Maybe it's the lightening quick war mage reflexes; or the fact that he's half incubus-but by the time my lips touch his I've already lost control of the kiss.

Not that I care because _God Damn…_ all I can think about is how much I want him to never stop.

Liquid heat pours down my spine, gathers between my legs-which are already off the floor and dangling from the edge of the pedestal sink rim I'm now occupying. Thank god, who wants to waste brain function on something as trivial as standing when there's so much Pritkin to explore?

I find his pockets again pull him into the circle of my legs, wrap my calves around his thighs gasp his name into his mouth as he grinds into me sending a surge of molten heat and shocks of pleasure down every nerve in anticipation.

_Yeeees, God I need more of that._ Too many times he's been within reach only for us both to be denied this. I can recall in _vivid_ full color-surround sound every detail of every earth shattering orgasm he's given me.

They're life affirming.

And we've never even made it past foreplay!

_Fuck Apollo, Zeus and all the others. _ The whole world needs to worship _Pritkin's Mouth_: I do.

Just the memory of his tongue dipping into my folds, fingers piercing my heat is enough to make me shake with need.

My fingers pop open the fly on his destroyed jeans, sink beneath the soft worn waistband to encounter one of his most impressive features. I'd thank god out loud if my mouth wasn't already otherwise occupied. I try to wrap my hand around his girth and squeeze, Pritkin snarls; slams me back against the mirror.

The glass actually splinters with the force.

"Don't." A cool breeze tickles the perspiration at the base of my spine.

I lick my lips. "Why not?" I gasp the words breathless and soft. My fingers trace up the veins in his exposed forearms normally covered by the sleeves of his thick leather duster…so much Pritkin skin to touch…There's no compulsion, no life-threatening injuries, just pure irrefutable want thrumming through me with every heartbeat.

Pritkin's chest is heaving harder than it does after those stupid eight mile runs he takes every freaking morning… in the Nevada heat; wearing a fucking hoodie because he can't even workout without an arsenal strapped to his body; no of course not...

My touch does interesting things to the muscles over his ribs. I slide my hands down them; feel them tense beneath the gentle pressure.

"Pritkin," his name is an exhaled sigh. I lean forward to slide my hands up his spine, trace the ridge of slightly raised skin that marks the tattooed sword Mac tied to his aura what feels like a life-time ago but was barely a few months.

His hands are shaking when they come up to grab my arms. He doesn't pull my hands away, just stares at me, his eyes are endless swirls of green, slightly lighter in the center, just the tiniest hint of too much iris. His thumbs draw tiny circles over my skin, the cool caress of his other half tickles down my spine. His other arm seems to be feeling better I absently note. His thumbs move up the inside of my forearms raising goose bumps along my skin. I remember what else those thumbs have caressed, where I want them now, it's my turn to shiver.

I lick my lips. Think about his comment what was days ago to me in his room, about strong emotions; I picture in my mind _exactly_ where I want to touch him, where I want that usually infuriating smart mouth to be...

Cool air wraps around me, shifts me closer to him, pulling as tight as a physical caress and somebody's incubus approves…

His real grip tightens, eyes darken, breath hitches.

"Pritkin, fucking touch me, pleeease…"

My hips tilt toward him rubbing against the prominent bulge in the front of his jeans while my fingers work at his belt, yanking it loose with greedy hands; slipping inside to feel hot flushed skin. His hands are on my waist, pulling me flush against him, holding me on the lip of the sink as he grinds into me, setting me on ablaze; his mouth claiming mine.

"Such a bad idea, Cassie…"

If he can still talk he's not trying hard enough.

I grip his erection in one hand pumping my fingers along his length. He growls into my neck, hips jumping forward so hard I almost fall off the sink even with his hands around me.

"Pritkin, Shut up." I pull the tank top up over my head, toss it away, take his hands and place them over me, I can't stop the moan that slips out, or the instinct to arch my back pressing into his warm palms.

"We're _already_ in Hell. We might as well _earn_ it."

"Fuck, Cassie." His hands are on my hips, yanking my pants down, the porcelain edge is cold against my skin. Then I can't remember anything but his mouth enveloping my right breast. My legs are wrapped around his waist; his jeans have slid lower on his hips. I try to help them along and growl in frustration when his hands snap around my wrists holding them to the frame of the sink. I rock my hips against him; head tilted back against the broken mirror when his mouth drops down my stomach, searing heat from his tongue circles and dips into my navel. I'm panting, white knuckled against the sink frame as he presses his mouth to my inner thigh_._

_Oh god, yes…please…_

He slides his teeth along the crease of my leg, presses his nose to my skin inhaling a long ragged breath. He moves quickly, runs his tongue over my folds in a lightening quick touch that has me jerking, rolling towards him, gasping in shock.

His hands move to grip my hips, he drops to his knees, kneeling in front me, sliding his hands down my legs, watching his own fingers trailing down my skin spreading the fire deeper inside me. His hands slide back up to my knees lift them over his shoulders opening me in a way that should be embarrassing but instead has me flushed and panting, radiating heat from every pore 'til all I can manage is a strangled gasp of his name.

Just like on the floor of the damn dressing room when he pressed his mouth to my folds; ran his mouth over the wet lace covering where I wanted him _so_ badly… all the while insisting it _wasn't sex_, it was an _emergency_.

A shaky laugh bubbles out of my chest at the memory, it dies in a strangled gasp the second he parts my folds with his tongue. There's no lace between us now; just hot tongue and his searing mouth lapping at my entrance, dipping inside, fingers pressing into my hips while I arch uncontrollably. My shoulders braced against the mirror, a sharp edge digs at my skin but I only half notice. I'm too busy burying my hands in his stupid unruly hair.

I called it angry hair once… that memory flits through me looking down at his head buried between my legs. I gasp feeling his tongue laving over me in an unbelievable slow caresses that's sending me quickly spiraling out of control. It doesn't look like angry hair now, after my fingers have pulled it into gravity defying twists. It looks like Sex, and God help me... I love it.

My neck arches back, throat exposed as Pritkin finds my clit and sucks, hard. Stars burst behind my eyes as he circles my entrance with his tongue again before plunging his tongue into me. I buck and curse when he fits his mouth against me while the stubble on his cheeks and chin create the most erotic friction I've ever felt. His tongue busy tracing ruins and sigils against my skin I haven't the brain function left to follow other than to writhe harder with each one because…oh…

I come, _hard_. My back bowed with the tension, twisting his disorderly hair in my fingers, heat seeping out of my core when he replaces his tongue with two fingers; parts me, plunges them inside filling the ache building there before I've even come back down.

The new sensation of his fingers pressing into me…curling against my heat as my insides still flutter and I tremble and melt narrows my focus to just this moment; everything else past and future is gone... they don't exist. Nothing does…There's only Pritkin and me, and this sensation, losing myself in his mind-altering caress...

He sighs against me, relaxing for a moment as if my release is his, and what do I know; with what he is it might be. The thought that I might have taken Pritkin along for the ride with each mind blowing orgasm he's ever gifted me with is an intriguing thought….one I'll contemplate later because he's moving again.

"_More,_" It's a rough growl against my skin and I'm not sure if he's _asking_ or _telling_; and when he scissors his fingers inside my trembling heat—flicks his tongue over my bud and adds a gently suction against my nerves I stop wondering too focused on the heat pooled around fluttering muscles and I'm ready to come again.

_Jesus, fuck. Pritkin_.

I dig my heels into his back, try to pull him closer. His tongue flicks out tracing over me and I'm crying his name out begging, needing the friction of his mouth. The heat of his tongue presses over me, in me; writing some kind of secret runes, deep primal magic thrums through my core, wraps around me, calls him to me, begs him to fill me…possess me. The urge to feel him plunge himself into me over and over until I shatter, completely undone and remade again overwhelms us both. The plunge of his fingers mimics the drive to feel him move deep inside me, but it's not enough…I need so much more.

He raises his eyes catching my gaze, eyes that bright and wildly vivid green hue I too rarely get to see. They're almost glowing watching me as I thrash and tremble, bucking into his hand.

"You taste so good." He runs his tongue over me again, replacing his fingers against my core, diving into me, circling my clit with his thumb.

I meet his eyes hold them gasping for air every nerve in my trembling body on fire. "More, please."

He stands and I raise my legs wrap them tight around his hips pulling him closer to me. I shove the jeans over the curve of his ass where they're barely clinging to his skin my hands noticeably shaking. His erection springs free, pressing into my stomach, throbbing with each pounding beat of his heart. I wrap my hands around him, slide them over his length. If he notices that I'm trembling he doesn't comment.

My name is a strangled groan in his throat, head thrown back, all his muscles shaking barely controlled.

It's the first time I've _ever_ been able to touch him. I want to savor the feel of him, memorize it. Feel the burning heat against my palm; explore his skin which is so fascinating and unbelievably velvet soft especially over his throbbing hard shaft. I circle my thumb against his head, spread the moisture beading there while he growls and pumps into my hand.

His mouth drops to my neck, teeth graze the lobe of my ear, slide over the skin at the arch of my neck with a sharp sting. His thumb briefly traces the mark there, a master vampire's claim I had no knowledge of until it was over.

"If we do this," his voice is dark, "you're _mine_, not his."

I've always been his, always will be.

"_I am_ Yours." I pump my hand down him again, guiding his head to my slick heat, pressing him to my most intimate place.

Air hisses from between his teeth as his tip slides through my folds. I tilt my hips, roll my pelvis closer to him meeting his gaze, holding it neither of us blinking for a long moment. "He never asked; I've always belonged with _you_."

His eyes slip shut. I bring my lips to his, twist my fingers in his hair while I press the softest kiss against the corner of his mouth, "Kiss me like you mean it Pritkin," He pours himself against me, drowns me in the sensation of heat and desire and lips and tongue and teeth sliding over my bottom lip and his breath tangling with mine while I rock my hips against the sweet and torturous pressure of his head aligned with me. Pressing just between my folds but not piercing me no matter how I roll my hips, tilt and shift closer to the sinks edge trying to appease throbbing ache of emptiness echoing through my belly; tingling up my spine swirling and fluttering and clutching desperately over nothing driving me half-mad with need.

"Pritkin…Please…God Please." My fingers dig into his hips, my heels tightening against his back a hiss of strangled frustration escaping me when his muscles lock keeping us separated despite my every attempt to bury him in my slick waiting heat.

Man either has the patience of a Saint; or he's torturing me on purpose…

"Unless you want to see what a truly pissed of Pythia looks like I suggest you get your ass in gear."

"I want to remember this; I have waited so long to touch you like this…"

I dig my heels into his ass; push off the sink with my hands in one quick motion wrapping one arm around his shoulders so my breasts press flat to his bare chest. So I can gasp feeling the barest tickle of his sparse chest hair against my sensitive skin, and feel the muscles at his waist flex and tense against my inner thighs as he takes all my weight and he's gloriously still pressed tight against my folds; has slipped just a little closer; pressing tight to my entrance with my new position over him and he can't stop me now…

The whole god damn demon council couldn't stop me from finishing this; we've waited long enough already.

I tilt my hips gasping head tilted back almost letting my grip go slack enough that I fall back except he's got his hands wrapped around my back steadying me while I'm lost. All I can do is shake, and try to breathe feeling his head finally pass my folds with the most perfect burning friction dipping into the quivering heat that's all his; always has been since the beginning. And tilting my hips into him has the added bonus of rubbing my clit with the most enticing friction, I do it again feel him slide deeper; but not deep enough. I want him all the way; need him buried all the way inside me, rough and possessive while he claims my skin the way I want to claim every inch of his with my hands and lips and tongue…

He lifts me, hands under my thighs, still wrapped around his waist, he's still buried to the hilt as he slides me from his skin, balances my weight and his, fingers flexing against the curve of my ass holding me just barely away from him, just enough that I tremble can practically feel the shake and twitch of every nerve in my body desperate to lean into him again; find his heat and slide against it.

He grins at me, that same wild look on his face he had wind surfing that stupid flying carpet racing a demonically controlled sand storm. I recognize it for what it is: joy, total reckless abandon. There's a wickedly mischievous glee to that look that so replaces his usual trademark scowl.

Pritkin's never had many reasons to smile, I'm glad to be one of them, especially when it comes with something as glorious as this; touching Pritkin is the most enthralling experience I'll ever have even with all the powers of being Pythia and if I live to be a hundred… Nothing can top this, ever. He's too _Perfect._ _This_ is too _Perfect_.

Pritkin is suddenly bouncing us both on the balls of his feet, the muscles in biceps rippling; tensing as he lifts my hips in his hands, drops me back down onto his cock driving himself all the way into my heat. His head jerks back, fingers covetously locked with damn near bruising strength around me. My muscles spasm and clench simultaneously protesting and welcoming the commanding thrust of his body into mine. Electric shocks flash up my spin, spark behind my eyes.

He raises me again just a few inches and drops me back once more this time rolling his hips I clench my core around him when he's buried back inside me. He groans, knees nearly buckle, he stumbles two steps catches one hand against the wall gasping and shaking, presses my back to the cold tile making me gasp.

He thrusts almost violently; slamming his hips into me, harsh strokes that send fire racing through me with every ragged breath. His eyes never leaving mine.

"Cassie." His fingers twist in my hair, their gentle touch a wicked contrast to the reckless crash of his hips against mine. The rough rhythm he's set against my skin makes my insides arc with electrical sparks of heat while my fingers slide through his hair fisting through the blonde locks far too soft to belong to Pritkin. His hair can't be this soft, not when everything about him is so battle-ready and hard. His muscles… His willpower, and singular drive; his rough calloused hands sliding over my soft skin with perfect friction, those captivating wry green eyes challenging me to hold his gaze, to feel it all; and let him watch me feel it. I let go just lose myself in the sensations he's give me as he takes it all, groaning eyes darkening and lips parted with his ragged breathing watching me while it rolls up my spine, overwhelms all reason and any small measure of control I might have left.

"Pritkin, what are you waiting for? Fuck me."

That _definitely_ gets a reaction.

I cling to his shoulders, my nails digging into his flesh no doubt leaving heavy marks across his skin but I don't care and he certainly doesn't stop me; it only seems to drive him wilder. His hips slamming forward, rolling up harsh and deep and perfect and my back is against the tiles with enough force to bruise now; he presses me between his chest and the solid surface tight enough that I've no doubt I'll wear the imprint of every tiny mosaic squares across my skin before we're done and I don't give a god damn because his tongue is invading my mouth and his teeth are dragging over my bottom lip and he's shifting me against him; over him; around him and it hits me _just right_…and there are stars and fireworks and heat and his possessive growl against my ear and teeth on my skin and I'm _Gone_.

Spiraling, spinning; collapsing and rising and just lost in it. He's everywhere and everything and I can't stop, can't fight it's pull_…_

"Oh God, _Pritkin_…"

"Say It again…God, say it again." It's a breathy desperate entreaty against my ear, the need behind it makes my head spin, my fingers drag him closer while it all fills me with a very different kind of heat; feeling and hearing the way this affects him… it sets my chest on fire, burns behind my eyes with the first hint of awed tears that we waited this long and both feel this much, that I almost lost him and we both never knew…

"Fuck me, Please…"

He groans, forehead pressed to my neck, breath hot against my skin hips still rolling, tilting muscles tensing under my calves, against my palms with each jagged upward thrust into my searing heat locking tighter around him with each pump driving me higher again…almost ready to tumble over…

"God that too; but Not this time. _My Name Cassie_…Say it again."

_Oh. I_ drag my fingers down the side of his face, press as close to him as I can get. Groan feeling him tilt his hips pressing so far it almost hurts but it's so amazing I don't want him to stop; can't even consider it.

"Pritkin…Please…" _God I'm so close again_.

I feel him shudder, whole body wracked with tremors while he moans against my mouth drags me into him; devours the very breath trying to escape my lungs.

And _he's close, God, I know he is…_and I know he's trying to hold out; prolong this but I don't want that right now; as much as I want this to never end; I need this. God I need to feel him that way, I need to feel him claim me with his climax; mark me as his like nothing else can. The need to feel him lose himself, let go and fall over the edge of reason hounds me, claws at my insides driving my muscles into tighter clenching spasms around him. Makes me gasp and writhe and jerk my hips tighter against his. I need his release more then I need my own.

I've never needed him more, wanted him more than I do right now.

I almost lost him, and I got him back, now he's mine; _really mine_.

Mine like I never dared imagine was possible and I need to feel him claim me. Everything I am twists frantic to feel him finish this after wanting it for so long. I want to hear him groan my name while he holds me close cums dragging another overwhelming orgasm from my own trembling nerves; I want to feel every part of him come undone; watch him lose himself inside me.

"Pritkin…" I bite my lip on the next searing heat wave rolling up my spine, tightening in my core, spiraling around his next thrust dragging gasps from us both. "Pritkin…cum for me, please…"

If I thought I got a reaction before it's _Nothing_ compared to this one.

I shatter moments later all but thrown over the edge with the thrashing pummel of his hips, the drag of his skin over mine, his fingers locked over my skin, mouth pressed tight against mine. He's breathing me in, swallowing my gasping moan as I explode around him, quivering walls pulling him deeper, farther tighter. All while I'm lost in pinpricks of light, and molten enveloping heat drenching my senses and swirling colors moving behind my eyelids. They dance and waiver and spin while I tremble and shudder and buck grinding my hips against his heated skin feeling him spill deep inside me groaning my name against my lips while I can't stop gasping a litany of his name and _god's_ and _yes_ while it all happens at once and I can't separate it; it's impossible to focus on any one sensation. They're all layered together in an indescribably tapestry of desire and pleasure and just…_Pritkin_.

God it's like feeling the pure essence of him pressed against my skin; thrumming up my spine, pooling in my center still fluttering and twitching around his body buried deep in mine while we both gasp and tremble and I finally start to feel the hard texture of the azure tiles against my bare skin and the ache of my thighs and pull of strained muscles from having my hips wrapped so tight around his waist for the last probably twenty minutes and oops….

"Uh, we should probably move before Caleb finds us…"

"I do not think that will be a problem."

I digest that half-heartedly more engrossed in the feel of Pritkin's lips sliding up the side of my neck while I feel him flex and twitch inside my still spasming center. Suddenly it hits me.

"Caleb sent you in here on purpose!" _Those sneaky Bastards!_

"How else was I supposed to get you alone?"

I shake my head, press my nose to the shallow dip where neck meets collar breathing his unique scent into my lungs. He smells like magic and danger, and it's not lost on me that the press of his skin against mine makes me feel safe and now there's just the hint of sex in the air between us and taking it all in at once in a potent and fascinating mixture that lights another fire in my belly even when the first one has yet to go out still fizzles and tickles under my skin.

"So I guess the next time I tell you to 'Go to Hell' it's going to have a completely different connotation…"

His wicked grin against my neck sends warmth wiggling deep through my chest, curling around my racing heart. But I'm distracted from it a moment later by his warm breath against my ear when he answers me teasing; just before his lips move over my skin heating me all the way to my fluttering core still wrapped around him.

"The only way I'm ever going to Hell again is with you."

* * *

_Fin!_


End file.
